Perfect
by lemonsmania
Summary: "I would imagine it's quite hard..." said Jill.  "What?" asked Susan.  "To always be so perfect."  Jill wonders why Susan has become so interested in nylons and lipsticks and invitations. Oneshot.


**Hello everyone! I would really appreciate any reviews you had to offer. This oneshot is based on a thought I had about what Jill thought of Susan. In The Last Battle, she says, "She's interested in nothing nowadays except nylons and lipsticks and invitations. She always was a jolly sight too keen on being grown-up." But other than that, she says nothing of her. And yes, there is a small bit of suggested JillxEustace, because I had to! :)**

Jill and Eustace had been invited to spend one week of spring holiday with the Pevensies before going home to celebrate Easter with their families. Both had eagerly accepted, after some convincing on both of their parts to their parents. Eustace had to convince Alberta and Harold, (but mostly Alberta) that the Pevensies were not influencing him and turning him into an ordinary person like everyone else. Jill had to convince _her_ parents that at thirteen, (nearly fourteen) she was old enough to travel with a friend to another friend's. Both of these arguments were made on the phone, which was very good for Eustace, because Alberta's stare could be one of the scariest things he'd ever seen. But when the time came, Jill and Eustace were standing on the platform at the train station, full of excitement, waiting to go to the Pevensies' house.

Now Jill was sitting at the large kitchen table, waiting for Lucy so that they could go to the park. The three boys were already there, but Lucy and Jill had breakfast first. Lucy was up in her room, trying to find her hat so that she did not burn in the sun, which was particularly bright that day. Jill was twiddling her thumbs when Susan walked into the room.

"Good morning, Jillian," she greeted.

"Hello, Susan. It's, uh, just Jill, actually."

"Oh, of course, sorry." Susan was looking through the refrigerator. "Do you know if the milk has been delivered yet?"

"Um, yes. Peter brought it in this morning."

"Oh, here it is!" Susan took out a bottle of milk and then a piece of bread from the breadbox. Jill studied Susan. Everything she did looked elegant and pretty. Her dark hair was pulled back into a perfect chignon, her blue dress brought out the color of her eyes, and she balanced perfectly in her heels. She made it look very fancy, just to be buttering a slice of bread or pouring a glass of milk. Susan took her plate and cup to the table and sat down across from Jill.

"Is that all you're eating?" asked Jill.

"Yes, I'm meeting a boy for breakfast in about an hour, but I needed something to sustain my appetite until then."

"Breakfast? At eleven o'clock?"

"Yes, it's the most fashionable time to be out, you see."

"Oh." Jill watched as Susan ate, putting each tiny piece of bread carefully into her mouth, without smudging her bright lipstick or getting anything stuck in her teeth. Susan took a sip of her milk, and then delicately dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin. Jill had noticed over the past two days that Susan seemed to do everything flawlessly.

"I would imagine it's quite hard…" said Jill.

"What?" asked Susan, raising a delicate eyebrow.

"To always be perfect. How do you do it?"

"Perfect? I'm not perfect. I just act as a proper lady would. You can't be expected to get a husband if you act like a slob. Although most people nowadays don't care. They just fall in love with their friends and get married. Like you will."

"_Me_?" asked Jill, perplexed.

"Yes, you. I reckon you'll end up with my cousin."

"Scrubb?" sputtered Jill.

"Yes, _Scrubb._ You really ought to use his proper name, it's so uncivilized to use a surname. Much too modern, not at all proper. But yes, it wouldn't surprise me if you and Eustace marry."

"_Marry him?_ I'm only thirteen!" Susan laughed lightly, like the tinkling of piano keys.

"Not now of course, dear. In ten years or so. But getting back to your original question, I only act the way I do because it's the right way to act. And I can hardly expect to be invited anywhere if I don't look my best. Do think about it, would you rather be stylish or sloppy?"

"Well, it seems like an awful lot of effort. Don't you ever wish that you could run around in the grass, not caring if you get dirt on your face or tear your stockings?" asked Jill. Then she added quietly, "You used to like that sort of thing." Jill saw something flash behind Susan's eyes. Susan held Jill's gaze steady, neither of them speaking.

At that moment Lucy walked in the room holding her hat.

"Oh, good morning Su. I didn't realize you were up."

"Yes, I've just been chatting with Jill," replied Susan, turning to face Lucy, while keeping her back straight in perfect posture.

"Oh," said Lucy, for lack of a better response. Then her face lit up with child-like hopefulness. "Would you like to join us? We're going to the park."

"No, sorry Lucy, I'm afraid I won't be accompanying you today. I'm meeting Samuel Arden for breakfast. You remember Samuel, don't you? Tall, sandy hair."

"Yes, I think so," replied Lucy. She tried to mask the disappointment conveyed by her eyes, but failed. Susan however, didn't seem to notice. Jill stood up and pushed in her chair, and followed Lucy outside.

"I'm sorry Lucy," said Jill.

"You get used to it. What was it you two were talking about?"

"Oh, I asked her if it was hard to act perfect all of the time. Then we somehow ended up on the topic of marriage, and she said that she thought I would marry Scrubb! Can you imagine?" Jill laughed. But when Lucy didn't respond, she turned to her and Lucy gave her a knowing look. "What is it?" asked Jill.

"Oh, nothing. It's only that I was once older than I am now. You learn to recognize things with the way people look at each other."

"You're not saying…" Lucy looked at her.

"You decide." Then she laughed, and they continued walking to the park. And later, when the lot was having a grand time frolicking through the grass, Jill wondered why on earth Susan would ever give this up.


End file.
